


I Get Off

by Minxchester (ComeAlongPond14)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, First Time, Horny Teenagers, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Top Castiel, Voyeur Castiel, Voyeurism, Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 20:09:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4759385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComeAlongPond14/pseuds/Minxchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was a complete accident, the first time."</p><p>In which teenage Dean forgot to close his curtains, and this proves to be extremely beneficial to both him and his new neighbor, Castiel.</p><p>(Teen/high school!AU, Neighbors!AU) Inspired by but not strictly following the lyrics of the song "I Get Off" by Halestorm because hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Get Off

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SORRY IT ISN'T THE NEXT "CRIMINAL" UPDATE YET.
> 
> I have that one almost storyboarded out. It's surpassingly nerve-wracking to write a huge piece that lots of people are anticipating, and I am super scared of letting y'all down with bringing Gabriel in. -_- So as usual I forced myself to write SOMETHING, and figured I'd share it so you know I'm not dead.
> 
> I am however in grad school, so....busy. But I promise, I am equally committed to my writing, and you will get your hot foursome Destiel/Sabriel fix. XD

"Are you seriously already going to bed?"

Dean looked over his shoulder at his younger brother, steps stuttering in his haste to get to his bedroom. For a second he was tongue-tied, because there was no way in hell he could explain to Sammy of all people why he wanted to hole up early.

"Uh, I’ve got some--homework. That I'm late turning in. So, gotta get caught up and, y‘know, not fail history."

Sam's eyebrow rose, his patented bitch-face sliding firmly into place. "Uh huh. Whatever, just use headphones for your porn, okay? I don't need to hear that crap."

Dean snorted, ducking back down the hall to ruffle the 15-year-old's hair, making him scowl and take a small swing at his older brother. "Aw, Sammy, you gotta grow up someday. And busty Asian beauties are very good educators."

Sam stuck his tongue out, risking giving him the middle finger before darting out of Dean's reach toward the stairs. "How culturally sensitive of you. Bye."

Dean smirked as his brother fled, knowing Sam would actually be paranoid enough not to come knocking for a little while. Perfect.

He all but ran to his room, licking his lips as he slipped inside and locked the door. It was cutting it close; the neighbors were usually all home around six, eating dinner together before their brood of kids scattered upstairs to do homework, or whatever six kids from a respectable and possibly highly religious family did with their evening.

Well. Five of them were that well-behaved, anyway. The youngest one--he was who Dean was hurrying over.

He wasn't even sure how this had started. The Novaks moved in about six months ago, and of course Mary Winchester had insisted on dragging her sons over with a basket of fresh baked goods, welcoming them and going absolutely mama-bird nuts over their half-dozen kids. Five boys and one girl. The oldest three seemed to be total snobs; the fourth definitely a troublemaker to challenge even Dean's rep at their high school; the girl was quiet, an out-of-place redhead with sharp eyes and a cold smile; and then there was the youngest.

Dean had liked him instantly, though he hadn't said a word, hovering near the stairs in his clean black slacks and a white button-down and looking vaguely curious about the Winchesters. He had thick black hair that looked permanently sex-rumpled, and huge blue eyes that made Dean's heart stop as they'd studied him impassively.

To his utter delight, it was this one--Castiel, his mother had said his name was--who was in the bedroom directly across the grass gap between the houses, his window facing right into Dean's.

It was a complete accident, the first time. Dean had come home absolutely worn out from soccer practice, soaked in sweat and worked up from adrenaline and the buzz of Friday evening, and he hadn't even noticed his open curtains as he'd stumbled into his room, shrugging out of his uniform and pausing as he pulled on fresh briefs, enjoying the brush of AC against his heated skin.

Being on the field, running around and throwing himself into the game, always got his blood pumping, so it was hardly surprising to him that his dick was hard, curving up against his belly and twitching happily at the soft rub of his underwear. Dean had smiled, going to lock the door and then sitting on the edge of the bed, lazily stroking his erection through the cotton.

He loved those moments: the leisurely exploration with no rush, safe behind a locked door and not worrying about a partner's stamina. It was just him and his fingertips, slowly circling his hardening nipples and tracing down his belly, feeling the muscle quiver with arousal and his balls tighten as he teased himself, not quite nearing his cock but getting close enough, tantalizing enough, for a bit of pre-come to darken the grey fabric.

That first time, he hadn't realized until his briefs were pushed down, lube-slicked dick in hand as he stroked himself and his other hand continuing to tease and tug at his nipples--one of his favorite feelings--that the window directly across was his was lit up, curtains open as well.

When he'd registered it, eyes hooded and head tilted back in pleasure, his heart had leapt into his throat when he'd seen the wide blue eyes locked on him--or more specifically, on his hands, roaming over his body and pleasuring himself.

Dean hadn't reacted, hadn't stopped or bolted upright or given any sign that he'd seen Castiel Novak watching him jerk off. In fact, if he was honest, it had ratcheted up the pleasure of the moment instantly, all of his famed narcissism surging through him in a hot rush as he found himself putting on a show for an apparently captivated viewer.

Castiel clearly assumed Dean hadn't noticed him, because despite his quiet exterior--the next day at school, Dean had greeted him cheerfully in the locker bay, and instead of seeming embarrassed or worried Castiel had merely smiled politely and said, "Hello," in a low gravelly rasp that had Dean immediately hard and desperate to put his hand down his jeans--he was back at his window the very next night, this time with only the desk lamp on, and though he did seem to be doing homework, Dean saw his eyes keep jumping up to his window.

What was a red-blooded equal-opportunity all-American boy to do with that? If Castiel wanted another show, Dean was absolutely going to give him one. All it took was playing dumb, like he didn't see the light across the 25 feet between their windows, like he thought he was alone, and he had a rapt audience.

That second night in a row, he'd played it up a little more. He'd puttered around his room, watching Castiel watch him, and then when Mom and Sam left for the kid's chess club-- _nerd_ \--Dean had made a show of locking his door, then standing by the bed and easing his leather jacket off.

The minute Castiel stopped writing, pen motionless in his hand and eyes peering up at Dean through those thick, gorgeous lashes, Dean had given himself over to it. He'd sat on his bed where he was in clear view, running his palms down his torso and smiling at the sensual rub of the black cotton. Then over his thighs; he absolutely fucking loved this, the slow-burning build-up, the teasing, but it was a thousand times hotter knowing someone else was enjoying it, too.

Eventually he'd taken off his shirt, playing with his nipples a little before focusing on his pants. This time he didn't take them all the way off--just opened them, bringing his hard-on out into the air and groaning at the feeling of wrapping his fist around it, stroking slowly, fingers twisting just right around the head. His hips bucked up off of the bed a little, nerves singing with the little lightning strikes of pleasure whispering through his veins.

When he'd risked a peek, he'd been well-rewarded; Castiel had dropped his homework pretence, leaning back in his desk chair and watching Dean hungrily, and from the flexing of his right shoulder, it was safe to say his hand was occupied in his lap. Dean managed not to grin, not wanting to give the game away, and had pushed his jeans a little further down, making sure his dick was visible as he lifted his hand to lick a wet stripe across the palm, not hiding his blissed-out moan as the slickness improved the entire thing drastically.

Knowing that Castiel was watching made it so much hotter, and Dean didn't last as long as he usually would. When he came, hips arching into his grip and free hand rubbing rough circles around his peaked, sensitive nipples, he cracked his eyes and bit back a smirk as he saw Castiel jerk in his chair, eyes fluttering to keep Dean in sight as he came as well.

It became a silent routine. Things didn't work out every night; Dean had soccer and friends, and he was pretty damn dedicated to giving Sam as much time as his brother wanted, for movies or pizza or going to the arcade. And sometimes Castiel just wasn't there, even if Dean came home horny and ready to show off.

But it did happen several nights a week, regularly and consistently, and after a few weeks of this Dean couldn't remember not coming under the heavy weight of that forget-me-not gaze, or biting down on his lip to avoid saying Castiel's name, in case he could read lips.

Tonight started normally. He tossed his backpack aside, shrugging off his jacket and flannel so he was just in his t-shirt, and he sat at the end of the bed with a textbook next to him, for illusion's sake. He was waiting.

The light flickered on in his peripheral vision, and Dean grinned. There was a pause, and then the lamp went on instead, the main light going off. Castiel liked it dark when they did this. Maybe he thought it hid him from discovery.

He could see the other boy, dark hair rumpled and shoulders hunched, dropping into his chair with his face toward the window. Dean waited for a few minutes, pretending to read his book while absently brushing his fingertips over his lips and throat. Gradually he moved toward his chest, slowly, going for natural progression. He couldn't just pull out his hard-on and go at it as if he'd been waited for Castiel, after all.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Castiel sit up, tugging his undershirt over his head. Dean's hand stuttered against his skin. He'd never seen Castiel change or strip before, and the suddenly expanse of lightly tanned skin made his mouth water. He had to remember that Castiel didn't know he was watching him back, and act normal.

Dean's hand resumed its movement, but his gaze was slanted sideways, locked on Castiel. He was touching his chest, too, and the shivers that were visible even to Dean implied that he'd never properly explored himself like this. Dean licked his lips, desperate for more.

Castiel's hands slowed, and Dean realized he wasn't doing anything more exciting than stroking his own nipples through his shirt. Stretching out lazily, as if he were just giving in to his own impulses, Dean kicked aside his book and arched his back, removing his shirt. Then he stood, making sure he was nicely framed in the window as undid his jeans and slowly slid them down his legs.

Risking a peek, Dean grinned when he saw Castiel; the other boy had his chair pushed back, both hands concealed by the desk and obviously working over his cock. Dean turned away, climbing onto the bed on his knees and leaning forward, feeling his briefs pull snugly across his ass as he reached for the lube.

When he returned to sitting at the end of the mattress, Dean bit back a moan. Castiel had moved to his own bed--which made his face harder to see with just his lamp on--but it also meant that Dean could clearly see that his slacks were gone, and his boxers were pushed down his thighs, exposing his dick. He was sitting up so he could still see Dean, face shadowed but hand perfectly visible where it stroked rapidly over his erection.

Dean huffed out a laugh. Looked like it was time to take things up a notch.

He lay down, turning sideways so he could still, just barely, see the other boy. Pouring lube onto his fingers, he ran just the tips down the length of his dick. One hand stayed there, wrapped around his cock and stroking wetly, and the other slipped down further, one slick fingertip slowly circling his entrance.

He saw it, the way Castiel's whole body stiffened in surprise, his hand speeding up on himself. Dean grinned up at his ceiling, rubbing his finger swiftly over the muscle until it gave just a little; just enough for him to start pushing inside. As always, the hot pressure of penetration made him buck up with a small groan, and he worked himself open faster than he normally would, until he could easily thrust one finger rapidly in and out of his hole.

Castiel looked spellbound, eyes locked on the point where Dean was fucking himself on his hand. He was jerking off furiously, and Dean found it immensely gratifying that he had the other teen so enraptured. He smirked, twisting his wrist and keeping his eyes on Castiel's face as he worked in a second finger.

Maybe it was the way his hole looked, gaping around his fingers, or maybe it was the way he ground down onto them, head tilting back in ecstasy, but when he peeked next, Castiel was coming, hips rising off of the bed, expression twisting with pleasure as he climaxed.

Pride washed through Dean, warm and euphoric, and he made quick work of finishing himself off. His fingers massaged his prostate, hand tightening around his dick, and he came a moment later, unable to help his gasp of, " _C_ \-- _Cas_ \--!" as the heat surged through him.

Dean lay there for a while, panting and enjoying the afterglow. He wondered if Castiel was still over there, or if he'd gone for a shower.

Finally he sat up, sighing at the mess on his stomach. Standing unsteadily, he went to the desk, grabbing a tissue as his gaze flicked over to the other window, where the lamp was still lit.

His hand froze as he was wiping himself off. There was a piece of paper now taped to Castiel's window, the lamplight illuminating the phone number written in sharpie, scrawled messily across the sheet.

Dean's mouth went completely dry. It didn't really matter if Castiel had known that Dean was watching him, but this was unexpected. And interesting. Dean grabbed his cell phone off of the desk, saving the number and opening a new text message.

 ** _Castiel_**?

His heart was pounding, which was annoying. He hadn't known what else to type; the impulse to just throw caution to the wind and maybe say some dumb pickup line had been there, but for all he knew Castiel was a total asshole and had written one of his siblings' numbers just to fuck with him.

His phone beeped. **_We should probably talk._**

Dean chewed his lip thoughtfully. He didn't know Castiel's texting style; he might be pissed, or that could just be how he texted. Dean sighed in annoyance at the uncertainty. **_Sure. Come over after school tomorrow._**

**_Alright. Good night, Dean._ **

He blinked, surprised, and almost laughed out loud. **_Night, Cas._**

***

He came home immediately after school ended, and he was in his room sitting on the end of the bed--okay, possibly an intentional choice of seating--when the doorbell rang.

Dean heard Mom answer it, her high musical voice interacting with one too low to catch what he said. Dean's stomach knotted up. Then there were soft footsteps on the stairs. And then a knock on his bedroom door.

"C'mon in."

When Castiel stepped inside, he stopped, immediately closing the door and leaning back against it. He was still in his school clothes, black slacks with a blue button-down. Despite the professional getup, his expression made him look so young, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

Dean pasted on a smile, not missing it when Castiel's eyes darted to the bed and then back to his face. "Hey, Cas."

Castiel frowned slightly, his head tilting adorably. "Cas?"

Dean shrugged, uncurling his legs and sliding to the edge of the bed. "Nickname. Sorry, it’s what I call you in my head. So, are you super pissed at me?"

Cas blinked rapidly, and then his eyebrow rose. An almost-smile curled at the corner of his lips, sending butterflies jolting through Dean's belly. "Why would I be angry at you, Dean? It would be more reasonable for you to be disgusted with me."

Dean snorted. "Okay, that’s fair, but you might’ve noticed--I was kind of loving it all." He paused, grinning when Cas blushed bright red. "When did you realize I knew?"

Cas shrugged, licking his lips. They were chapped and pink and pretty, and Dean had to suppress the strong desire to taste them himself. "The second time. It was--I know that I shouldn't have, but I realized you had to have seen me the night before, so...I figured that meant you were okay with it, since you were--doing it again."

Dean chuckled in acknowledgement, nodding slowly. "So what about that first night?" His voice dropped lower, and he knew he was being a dick but Cas just looked so cute when he blushed. "Did you touch yourself after you watched me?"

Crimson flooded Cas' cheeks, but his pupils were dilating, and Dean caught the way his legs shifted, thighs parting ever so slightly as his dick hardened. Cas' voice was choked when he replied. "I--yes. I didn't--I mean--"

Dean smirked broadly, leaning back on his hands and spreading his knees, relishing the predictable way that Cas’ eyes dropped to his lap before snapping back up to his face. "What'd you do?" When Cas just stared at him, his eyes wide and skin a gorgeous shade of pink, Dean shook his head, tossing on his best fuck-me smile. “Come on, Cas, we’re a little past being shy. I wanna know.” He pulled himself further back onto the mattress, legs still parted in obvious invitation. “What’d you do after you watched me jerk off?”

Cas was so red it was impressive, considering how much blood had moved further south in his body, and when he licked his lips again Dean almost growled with want. The dark-haired boy took a hesitant step forward, eyes drifting to Dean’ hands where they were pressed against his blanket. Cas’ voice was even rougher when he answered, sending sparks of need tripping down Dean’s spine. “I...I went to take a shower and I...I had to...”

Dean chuckled, realizing that Cas wasn’t sure how to phrase what he wanted to say. “You jerked off? Did you stroke your cock in the shower, thinking about how I looked wearing nothing but my briefs, playing with myself?” When Cas nodded, lips parting around a soundless gasp, Dean grinned broadly, lifting one hand and holding it out. “You want a more hands-on encounter?” Vaguely he worried that he was being too pushy, and he was was working to keep his voice playful and inviting, so Cas would know he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to.

Dean needn’t have worried. Cas stepped closer, then reached for him--but he didn’t take Dean’s hand. His fingers closed in the fabric of Dean’s jacket, and then he was pushing at it, leaving Dean barking out a soft laugh as he was roughly stripped, his t-shirt quickly following the jacket to the floor. Cas climbed onto his lap, straddling him, and Dean choked on an amused noise when he felt the other teen’s hard-on pressing down against his own.

Cas’ voice was like molten lava in his ear as he leaned in close. “I want to watch you again.”

A shudder ran through Dean, his raised hand falling to clench at Cas’ shoulder through the stiff fabric of his shirt. “Yeah, okay,” he got out, arching his hips up against Cas’. “N--now, or later--?”

“Both.” When Cas leaned back to meet his gaze, Dean groaned at the intensity of the _want_ in his dark blue eyes. “I mean, yes, later too, when I have to go back to my house--but also right now. I want you to show me what you like.” As he spoke, his hands came to rest against Dean’s bare chest, the skin-on-skin contact searing into Dean’s skin like a brand.

Then he huffed a laugh as Cas pushed gently, nudging him onto his back and leaning over him. Cas’ lips hovered just above his, hunger burning bright in his midnight gaze. “Move back up to your pillow and touch yourself for me, Dean.”

A moan tumbled from Dean’s mouth and he nodded hastily, then paused to tug at the sleeve of Cas’ shirt. “Can--can this come off?”

Cas smiled, slow and wide and perfect, and heat filled Dean as he felt the tables turn, the metaphorical rug yanking out from under him as Cas took control of the exchange. “Sure.” The smile stayed as Cas sat back up over him, his fingers moving rapidly down his own chest as he unbuttoned his shirt. He shrugged it off, revealing an undershirt, and Dean groaned at the delay, which made Cas laugh softly.

“Patience,” he chided teasingly, but he was already grasping the hem of his shirt and sliding it off over his head, tossing it with the rest of their clothes. And then he shifted away, off of Dean’s lap, settling on his knees with a knowing smirk as Dean stared at him hungrily for a moment before remembering his instructions.

Immediately Dean was scrambling backward until he felt the pillow under his hand, and he stretched himself out comfortably, hands going to the fly of his jeans. On instinct, his eyes leapt to Cas’ face, seeking approval.

Cas’ gaze was on his hands, and he nodded, licking his lips. When he spoke, his voice was ragged. “Off.”

Dean grinned, undoing his jeans and shimmying the denim down his legs until he could kick them free. His briefs followed at once, and he absolutely relished the low whine that escaped Cas at the sight of his naked body. Preening just a little, Dean arched his back, running his fingertips teasingly down the length of his torso, pausing just above his straining erection.

Heat laced Cas’ voice, making it little more than a throaty rumble. “No teasing, Winchester. Touch yourself.” His cerulean eyes were locked on Dean’s hands still. “One hand playing with your nipples, the other on your cock.”

Dean arched an eyebrow, obediently moving his hands to the selected places, but not beginning yet. “You’re a lot pushier than I imagined you’d be, Cas.”

The other boy blinked, then glanced at his face curiously, but surprisingly without fear or apology. The shy kid who’d entered Dean’s room so cautiously was long gone. “Do you object?”

Dean snorted a laugh, reaching into his bedside table for his lube and slicking his right hand before he wrapped it around his dick, stroking slowly as his left fingers began pinching and rolling the nipple. “Not even a little. Wasn’t expecting it, but I’m sure as fuck loving it.”

Cas smirked, leaned forward to see his movements better. “Good. Show me how you like being touched.”

Dean nodded obediently, twisting his wrist to demonstrate just how he liked having his dick played with. His head fell back against the pillow, a soft sigh leaving him as he fucked slowly into his own fist, biting down on his lips at the surges of pleasure sparking through him.

“Don’t hold back your noises.” He looked back down at Cas, who was watching his mouth raptly. Cas clarified, smiling a little wickedly. “You’re biting your lip. I know we need to be discreet, but I do want to hear the sounds you make when you feel pleasure.”

Nodding, Dean let out a long breath, the sound bordering on a whimper. “Okay.” His hand sped up, fingers twisting around the head of his cock and dragging a small, muted cry from his throat, and Cas sighed in pleasure.

“I’m going to remove my pants, if you’re alright with that,” the dark-haired boy said quietly, and Dean choked on a half-laugh, half-groan.

“Uh--yeah, fuck, yes, lose ‘em,” he grunted, needing to squeeze down at the base of his cock to keep from coming way too fucking soon as he watched Cas slide gracefully off of the bed, undoing his pants and slipping them off with far more calm than Dean was okay with him possessing right now.

When Cas climbed back onto the bed, Dean reached for him, hoping to steal a kiss, but Cas merely smirked and swatted his hand back. “You’re not done, Dean. I want to see the whole show up close. Everything that you did to taunt me from your window.” When Dean looked at him in confusion, Cas’ smile widened a little, mischief glinting in his indigo eyes. “Were you imagining my fingers when you fucked yourself the other night? Pretending it was me working you open?”

Between Dean’s thighs, Cas’ fingers were suddenly there, grazing the sensitive flesh and making Dean gasp as Cas trailed one fingertip along the seam of his ass, and over his twitching hole. “I want to see it again, Dean. I want you to finger yourself for me.”

Dean’s breathing was ragged as he nodded, accepting the bottle of lube from Cas and adding more to his fingers. “Are you--are we going to--?”

Cas’ eyes softened as he sat back on his knees. “Do you want to? I’ve never done it before, but I would like to, with you. Very much.”

Dean nodded, a little too quickly. “Yeah. Yes, please. I want you to--want you to fuck me.”

Cas licked his lips, glancing at the bedroom door. “Do we have time?” When Dean nodded mutely--Sam had chess, or debate club, or whatever the hell this time--Cas smiled, then leaned forward between his knees and pressed one light, sweet kiss to the corner of his lips--not quite where he wanted it--before he drew back. “Okay. Prep yourself, Dean, I want to see you do it.”

Dean bit down on a frustrated little whine, but he nodded obediently, warming the lube between his fingers before reaching down behind his balls. He was so turned on that his body opened much more quickly than usual, and it didn’t take long to work two fingers into his hole, scissoring and twisting to relax the muscle. Cas’ eyes remained locked on the movement, his face slack with hunger and approval as Dean fucked himself open for him, tiny groans and whimpers escaping him as he did.

When he had three fingers sliding easily in and out, Cas sucked in a breath. “Is that enough preparation for you?” he asked hoarsely. “I want--I’d like if you were...still a little tight.”

The noise that left Dean was completely undignified, but he couldn’t care less when it made Cas grin at him like he was the most perfect thing the dark-haired boy had ever seen. Dean nodded hastily, removing his hand and reaching over to dig a condom out of his drawer.

Cas accepted the little foil packet, and for the first time since he’d come into the bedroom, Dean glimpsed a hint of nerves--Cas’ hands were shaking slightly as he tore open the wrapper and pulled out the little rubber circle.

“Cas, we don’t have to--” Dean started quickly, because as much as he wanted to feel the other boy inside him, if it was Cas’ first time then he could definitely wait till they were equally ready for this.

He was silenced by lips pressing against his, and Dean’s entire body positively melted as Cas _finally_ kissed him, his lean body dropping forward to touch Dean’s from chest to hips, and his cry of pleasure was lost in the blazing heat of Cas’ devouring mouth as he felt their erections slide together, Cas having apparently gotten the condom on, and then Cas’ hand was around them both, squeezing and stroking them together and making Dean’s brain fill with white noise.

“Please,” he grunted, yanking his lips free to gasp out the word, and Cas moved to kiss his throat instead, tongue and teeth exploring and tasting and absolutely destroying Dean’s brain function. “Please, please, need you, need you inside me--”

“I’ve got you,” Cas murmured, and something funny and painful twisted in Dean’s chest at the tenderness in the other boy’s voice, a kind of affection he wasn’t used to hearing from anyone, let alone someone about to shove their cock inside him.

Cas’ hands smoothed down his stomach and hips, over his thighs, gently nudging them apart to admit him as he leaned over Dean, giving him one last almost unbearably sweet kiss as the head of his dick teased slowly around the rim of Dean’s hole. He bit his lip, entire body arching up toward Cas in need as he felt that perfect heat, so close and yet not nearly close enough.

“Fuck, c’mon, Cas, give it to me,” he rasped out, and he heard the answering chuckle, low and sinful and just plain cruel, but it disappeared under the wave of euphoria that washed through him as Cas finally pushed inside. Dean might’ve tried to cry out, but thankfully Cas saw that coming, his mouth closing over Dean’s again as he kissed him, all wet and messy and uncoordinated but absolutely divine because of it.

It felt like hours to Dean, but of course they were teenage boys--and Cas a virgin, at that. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes of chaotic, sloppy rutting together, Cas’ hands gripping at his hips like a vise as he thrust into Dean, making low, desperate noises against his mouth and jaw, and Dean was practically biting through his lip as he struggled not to scream every time Cas’ cock brushed his prostate, sending pure bliss firing off through his nerves.

When Cas gasped against his neck, moaned out, “ _Ngh--Dean_ , I’m gonna--gonna come--!” all Dean could do was wrap his arms around the other boys neck, nodding as he twisted to kiss whatever was closest, his lips sliding messily along Cas’ jaw until he found his mouth.

“Do it,” he groaned. “C’mon, Cas, want you to, wanna feel you come inside me--!”

Cas came with a bitten-off cry, lost in Dean’s mouth as he fucked into him a few more times, hips stuttering through the aftershocks of his orgasm. To Dean’s immense surprise, he didn’t immediately roll off, or even pull out right away--still buried inside Dean, Cas wriggled until he could reach one hand between them, bracing himself on his other arm as he wrapped one hand around Dean’s erection.

He grinned when Dean let out a whine at the contact, deep blue eyes glazed over with pleasure still as Cas watched Dean’s face hungrily. “What, did you think I’d forget you? Want to feel you come all over my hand. Want to see that look on your face again, and get to kiss you through it this time. Please?”

Dean had no words, no voice left to agree. He nodded helplessly, hips bucking to press his dick into Cas’ warm, tight grip, and incoherent pleas tumbled from him as he realized he could still feel Cas inside him, too, soft now but hardly any less overwhelming in terms of sensation. He was so fucking _close_ \--

Cas’ lips found his, and his teeth tugged lightly at Dean’s bottom lip, short-circuiting his brain as Cas breathed his words into Dean’s slack mouth, his hand speeding up around Dean’s cock. “Come for me, Dean.”

“ _Cas_ ,” Dean breathed it like a prayer, a benediction, the only thing that made any sense as he hit his climax, spilling into the other boy’s hand and feeling his entire body relax into the wave of hot, encompassing bliss that flooded through him as Cas stroked him through his release, murmuring words of praise and approval and gratitude into his ear.

When Dean’s mind caught back up to him, he jolted out of the half-sleep he’d almost instantly dropped off into, and found Cas lying beside him, propped up on one elbow and smiling down at him with sleepy eyes. He’d cleaned them both off, and Dean sighed as he settled back on his pillow, smiling drowsily up at him.

“So, wow.”

Cas snorted, reaching down to tug the blanket up over them both. “Eloquent, Dean. A very loquacious description of what we just shared.”

Dean blinked, then rolled his eyes, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Cas’ undeniable sex hair and tug him down. “God, you’re gonna be a pain in the ass, aren’t you?” He hesitated, eyes darting to Cas’ lips and then back to his eyes, unconsciously seeking permission again.

Cas smiled, small and tender and heartbreaking. “You don’t have to ask to kiss me if you want to do it. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to pretend this didn’t happen.”

A tiny noise of discontent left Dean, and he yanked Cas down, smashing their mouths together and enjoying the low moan of relief that Cas let out.

When they drew apart, he shook his head in amusement. “You idiot. This definitely happened. And will happen again?” he added cautiously, relaxing when Cas nodded at once, eyes brightening eagerly. Then he chuckled. “Besides, you said ‘both.’” At Cas’ confused (adorable) little frown, Dean’s smile widened into a smirk. “You said you wanted another show through the windows, too. There’s a lot of stuff I can do to drive you wild when you can’t get your hands on me right away.”

Cas’ eyes widened slightly, and a look of desperate, almost savage need lit up in his oceanic gaze, making Dean laugh as Cas rolled over him, pinning him to the bed and kissing the sound of it right out of his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> This got shmoopier than I expected. I love it.


End file.
